


Resonating, Concretely

by jer832, Kelkat9



Series: Let Me Count the Ways [5]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: "Let Me Count the Ways", F/M, Farce, Missing Scene, Romance, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 11:17:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2426771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jer832/pseuds/jer832, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kelkat9/pseuds/Kelkat9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"'Course I'm no expert on aliens–"  Rose's voice fell like a rockslide through a lazy flow of honey. "But I'd stake my life that no one anywhere or anywhen can show me anythin' more … tantalizin', more … tasty, more... impressive than your banana.  As for special features…"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Resonating, Concretely

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the "Let Me Count the Ways" series written with yumimum, scifiangel, kelkat, and fogsblue and posted on Teaspoon under the name, LMCTW. The Doctor and Rose are lovers, and the "missing" adult scenes have been added to Steven Moffat's "The Doctor Dances" episode. Dale the Dalek (from LMCTW's "Dalek") makes another appearance. Thank you, kelkat.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Resonating, Concretely"

by jer832 and kelkat9

(original teleplay "The Doctor Dances" by Steven Moffat)

 

 

In an impressive display of his uncanny aptitude for brilliant nick-of-time rescues, the Doctor saved Rose, Captain Harkness, and himself from a fate that _was_ literally worse than death — the touch of the gas-mask zombies that had backed them up against the wall.

_"Go to your room!"_

Displaying his even more uncanny (and sometimes seriously disturbing) aptitude for ending them up in such worse-than-death situations in the first place, the Doctor then brought the deadly _Are you my mummy_ zombie child down on them… or more specifically, Rose.

_"Mummy, please…. I'm here… Can't you see me…"_

_"I sent it to its room. THIS is its room."_

Then, because being chased by a horde of undead with intentions of initiating them into their zombie club was _no biggie_ to them, the Doctor and Captain Jack got into a sarcasm exchange over whose sonic tech was more impressive–Jack's blaster from the weapons factories of 51st century Villengard or the Doctor's screwdriver.

_"Who looks at a screwdriver and thinks, ooohooo this could be a little more sonic?!"_

The Doctor had already (and a bit too gleefully for a Time Lord whose main concern should have been saving the planet) made Harkness look like a yokel using the ol' switcheroo, replacing the man's fancy-schmancy squareness gun with a banana from the grove that replaced the Villengard weapons factories after the main reactor went critical.

_"I like bananas. Bananas are good…"_

His sleight of hand and implication-dripping understatements made sure Harkness understood just what kind of powerful adversary the Doctor could be… and not coincidentally nudged the conversation away from impending _Nya-nya, my sonic's more impressive than yours_ embarrassment.

It was obvious to Rose that all their chatter about the Doctor's organically grown, perfectly shaped, firm, unquestionably delicious banana and Jack's big, flashy, high-tech blaster gun with all its cool special features, including an impressive _penetrate-reverse-penetrate_ capability, actually was a competition about… well, the Doctor's _banana_ and Jack's _gun_. (Rose wasn't sure why the Doctor was suddenly insecure about how his sonic screwdriver–the literal one–measured up against Jack's sonic blaster (similarly literal). Didn't the git know that nothing sonic, atomic-powered, or even driven by a perpetual motion machine with a trans-dimensional magazine full of magical special features could ever match the beauty, elegance, and effectiveness of his screwdriver?! _Or_ his _screwdriver_. Or for that matter, [to cover all of her lover's metaphorical bases] his _banana_.)

"The night your space-junk landed," the Doctor told Jack Harkness, "someone was hurt."

Rose blushed a lovely pink and Harkness gave her a zillion-watt grin, and the Doctor realized he had possibly chosen not the best way to start an accusation of guilt in front of the woman he cherished and needed and didn't want anywhere near a pretty-boy rogue with distressingly obvious untapped hero potential. Looking at Rose's tongue-peeping smirk, the Doctor despaired that even if he saved everyone else on the planet, Captain Flash's space junk still might destroy two alien hearts that night.

The escalating testosterone war left Rose's brain the only one functioning. She grabbed Captain Jack's gun (the squareness one from Villengard) and blasted them a temporary respite from their imminent face-lift and demise. But it didn't help the Doctor's and her situation when Jack disappeared, somehow, leaving them trapped in the escape-proof storeroom. The Doctor sulked off to fondle his sonic. More frustrated than scared, Rose followed her lover to the chair he'd dropped into, stroked his shoulders, kissed the nape of his neck. "Look, this is just a refractory period. After the suspense and boredom you'll work it all out, get us out of here, and save everyone like always."

Not even glancing up, the Doctor flourished a hand into the air somewhere above his head. "There's the exit your pretty new boyfriend took, Rose Tyler. After you."

Pretty new–? Why would he–? Oh. Jack Harkness's guns; _both_ of them, no doubt. "Git! I learned _that_ lesson back when Adam had only one hole in his head." Rose brushed some pulverized concrete and metal grime off the Doctor's shoulder. "Ok, so Captain Jack's vanished into thin air." She chuckled quietly. "Why is it always the great-lookin' ones with the really impressive tech who do that," she asked the cosmos, not really expecting a response, rhetorical question or not.

But the Doctor frowned up at her. "I'm making an effort not to be insulted."

"I mean men."

"Ok, thanks. That _REALLY_ helped."

"Men and aliens are nothin' alike."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. He pushed off the chair and out from under Rose's hand, putting distance between them.

"Doctor, there's just somethin' about human men–the more attractive the bloke, the more he's impressed with his own… _tech_ ; the more impressive his tech, the more interested he is in it than in anythin' or anyone else. But when we meet aliens with impressive tech, even the good-looking' ones far's aliens go, they all mostly just want to use the tech to kill us… yeah?"

"Yeah." The Doctor nodded and chuckled and looked at Rose with a lot less hurt feelings an' all. Rose grinned, her eyes bright.

"'Course I'm no expert on aliens–" Her voice fell like a rockslide through a lazy flow of honey. "But I'd stake my life that no one anywhere or anywhen can show me anythin' more … tantalizin', more … tasty, more... _impressive_ than your banana. As for special features…"

The very first time Rose Tyler had talked to him like that, in that kind of voice, the Doctor's jaw had dropped into one of his shoes, bouncing off his balls on the way down, making them go _tilt_ ; and his cock had felt the need to balance out its action with equal and opposite (and incredibly _fantastic_ ) reaction of its own. He had slipstreamed the TARDIS and gone back in time a few hundred years just to plant a tree to take Rose against. The Doctor realized that with Harkness gone the minx was planning to torment him into giving her … _a_ _banana_. Rassilon help him, he was more than half-tempted. He watched the flush of desire deepen over Rose's face and throat, saw the pointed invitation of her nipples. Rose licked her lips. He licked his lips. His erection strained painfully against his button fly. This wasn't the time or the place; but from _Nice to meet you Rose, run for your_ _life_ it had never stopped him _–_ and he wouldn't even have to Johnny Appleseed the room. He noted the most promising surfaces among the tables, crates, and walls. His hands moved to open his fly.

"Rose? Doctor?" Jack Harkness's voice came out of the radio. "Can you hear me? I'm back on my ship. I used an emergency teleport security-keyed to my molecular structure. I'm working on it. Hang in there."

The strains of _"Moonlight Serenade"_ filled the air. The dark, depressing, inescapable room seemed to take on a dusky romantic atmosphere that Rose and the Doctor had never found in the dark, depressing, inescapable rooms they usually got themselves locked into.

Rose smiled wantonly at the Doctor. She teased her hardened nipples through her tee-shirt, rolled the small firm globes of her breasts. Her fingers sidled down her torso, toyed with the waistband of her jeans and purposefully inched inside. The Doctor's eyes smouldered, dark and predatory. He gave Rose a slow, hungry smile and fondled the buttons of his fly open. Jack's voice rose over the strains of _"Moonlight Serenade"_ , sure and smiling "Rose, remember this?"

Rose suddenly flushed differently than she had been just before. "Our song," she answered his unvoiced question quietly. The Doctor re-buttoned his fly and went to work at the window bars with his sonic. No, he didn't want to hear her explanation. No he wasn't doin' anything really, just hanging in there. No, he didn't care to discuss his plan with her until he was sure it would work.

If _hanging in_ meant sulking and ignoring her while Captain Jack worked out a way to rescue them before the zombies got them, Rose decided the Doctor was doing a much better job of it than getting the window bars loose. Her alien lover could be such a bloke!

Rose was frustrated. She needed to talk to someone – someone who'd see her moonlit serenade on an invisible space ship as no different than the Doctor going off to save Platform One with someone who wanted to cross-pollinate with him. –someone who'd enjoy Rose's opinion that the touch-of-death gasmask kid that wanted her for his zombie mum really wasn't half as scary as her own mum, who'd told a UNIT colonel on a recorded hot line that the Doctor packed a tentacled green penis and made Rose his sex slave, and intimidated the _Destroyer of Worlds_ into cowering behind a locked TARDIS near Carnaby Street for three hours, until Rose got there with the spare key. Rose wanted to hear the caring, warm, though slightly mechanical voice of the one who'd taken her licks and learned how to live again, gone back in time to ring up Rose and reassure her they'd survive the missile at 10 Downing, put aside her own initial enmity toward the Doctor and supported Rose's choice of her mercurial lover but would thoroughly agree with her now: sod his sulking already!

Moving away from the Doctor, Rose slipped out her mobile and hit Dale's speed-dial number. A little dancing pepper pot spun in circles on the screen as the connection was made.

“Hey, it’s me,” Rose whispered into her mobile, looking furtively over at the Doctor, who was obsessively focused on resonating concrete.

_“Rose Ty-ler, report your status. Is the Doc-tor being a prick?”_

“Um, he’s resonatin’ concrete right now.  See, we’re locked up in this room, and this kid thing is tryin’ to get to us to kill us and he's trying to find a way to get us out before that happens. He seems a bit…distracted.”

_“He is being a prick! Rose Tyler must command his attention.”_

“How do I do that?” Rose asked, biting her lip.

Rose thought she heard a laser fire while her Dalek girlfriend muttered about exterminating male pricks.

_“Flirt-ation and sexual inn-uendo,_ ” the Dalek advised.

“Oh I like the way you think!” Rose said enthusiastically.

_“Dancing. The Doc-tor must dance with Rose Ty-ler._ ”

Rose giggled. “Yeah, he does dance amazingly,” Rose agreed and then stared at said Time Lord’s tight jean clad arse.

_“Hor-izontal tango. The dance of love. Rose Ty-ler must make him listen.”_

Rose heard some tango music in the background and someone in the background saying, “ _Pequeno querida_ , dance with Carlos!”

“Oh um you sound um busy?” Rose noted, pleased that her Dalek girlfriend appeared to be enjoying herself.

_“Car-los understands me. He is not a prick.”_

“Oh good. Well, have fun! Gotta go make this lump stop resonatin’ concrete and start resonatin’ me. Thanks!”

Rose rang off and focused her attention on the Doctor. "How's it goin' with the window?" He didn't turn around, kept working at the bars; but at least this time he didn't ignore her.

"I'm trying to set up a resonating pattern in the concrete. If I can loosen the bars and get us free, I'll use the length of rope I've got to rappel us down the wall far as we can get. I can cut a crevice into the wall for me, kind of a perch, and safely lower you with the rope. You may have to jump at most ten, fifteen feet." The Doctor did turn, then, and smiled at Rose, his eyes full of pride. "No big deal for you, Rose Tyler."

"What you gonna do then, Spiderman, climb down the rest of the sheer drop on your own?" The Doctor shrugged and grunted. Eloquent, her lover. She took a step or two toward him. "You don't think he's comin' back, do you?"

"Wouldn't bet my life."

"Why don't you trust him?"

"Why do you?"

"I trust him 'cos he's like you. Except with datin' _and_ dancin'."

The Doctor stopped resonating the concrete under the bars and turned to look at Rose in bemusement. " _We_ date."

"We go into someplace dangerous, get caught, blow somethin' up, and escape."

"Yeah." He grinned. "And we dance."

"Only in the TARDIS, mostly before we _dance._ "

"Oi, we danced at 10 Downing."

"Only because I _made_ you."

"Rose Tyler," the Doctor purred huskily, "you _made_ me in just about every room of the place. We danced at your mum's Halloween party, and we didn't _dance_ at all."

Rose huffed her bangs out of her eyes. "That doesn't count. We were in character. You were dressed up as Captain Kirk and I was in green paint."

"As I recall," the Doctor licked his lips, "not much more else."

"Dance with me, Doctor."

"Isn't _this_ song already taken?" The Doctor turned back to the window. Not sulking. Not sulking at all.

Rose walked to the Doctor slowly, seductively, hips swaying, hands beckoning. She took the sonic out of his hand and wrapped her fingers through his. "You've got the moves… Show me your moves."

"Rose, I'm trying to resonate concrete."

"You'll find your feet at the end of your legs. You may care to move them."

A shiver ran through the Doctor. Rose Tyler's voice was impossibly low and sultry again, owning him, body and hearts. His body's reaction to his lover's teasing would never diminish. Pushing Rose's denims down and out of his way, the Doctor wrapped his hands around her naked buttocks and boosted her onto the nearest table. He dragged her against him, hugging her thighs around his hips.

"You'll find my cock against your slit," he whispered huskily, and made good on his word. He pushed into Rose in one hard, deep thrust that tore a hoarse primitive sound out of her. "You may care to move now."

The Doctor planned on a long and satisfying love-making that had nothing to do with besting Captain Flash and everything to do with love and hunger and Rose. Time was on his side, and Time was a lady. She said, " _I'll just get out of your way now_ ", blew the Doctor a light kiss, and discreetly left the room, closing and locking the door behind her.

Rose tilted her hips and locked her ankles against the Doctor's back, and he pushed in even deeper. His hands held Rose's body fast against him as he grew and stirred inside her, caressing and teasing her nerve endings in an unhurried, confident pattern of sensation that built up ripples of excitement through her. Like the tides of a calm lake on a quiet night, he flowed and ebbed, stroking forward, easing off. Her nails scratched lightly through his hair; her mouth at the hollow of his throat set his skin on fire and thrilled through his body. He began to move slowly against her, his hips unselfconsciously seductive against the embrace of her legs, his fingertips stroking her hot slippery flesh as if he were playing an exquisitely responsive musical instrument. He deepened the penetration, subtly circling; one long finger ground against her clit, mimicking the slow circles of his pelvis against her and his cock inside her.

Rose's hands followed the dreamy tempo of the Doctor's hips and cock, fingertips whispering, nails scraping lightly, hands touching him everywhere they could reach. Her mouth made its way down her lover's chest savouring his sweat and musk. She circled the tip of her tongue through the patch of sparse hair between his breasts, skated the sensitive perimeter of his areolas until the dark little disks dimpled. With the coaxing of her tongue, the nubs, always delightfully responsive, grew firm and plump in the damp warmth of her mouth. Giving in to temptation, Rose dragged a nipple through her teeth, until the Doctor cried out and lost his rhythm.

Their bodies moved in easy union, the ebb and flow of an unhurried tide of desire, slow-dancing in a time signature only a Time Lord could count, only the woman in his arms would ever know; _I love you_ said in phrases without syntax, but deep, filling, stretching, grasping, grinding, slick, hot. They exploded like stars in slow motion. Then the Doctor wrapped his arms around Rose and held her. He held her as if nothing could make him let her go. He held her as if she were made of stardust and promise.

When they helped each other dress, it was just as slow and sensual. It was a renewal of vows, the promise of forever. Mostly, though, it was more foreplay. "Moonlight Serenade" played in the background and they didn't think to care whose song it was.

"Now the dance," the Doctor said. He took one of Rose's hands and brought it to his lips, kissed her palm wetly and with expert use of tongue. Then he repeated himself against her other palm. A hand moved to Rose's waist, stretched to reach her hips and bum. His other enclosed her hand within his long fingers, his thumb teasing the still-damp mark of him on her palm. They began to dance…

Well, actually they didn't. The Doctor's eyes went dangerous–Oncoming Stormily dangerous.

"You were swinging from a barrage balloon when you met Harkness?"

"Yeah, turned out wearing denims to the war was a good idea after all, wasn't it, and I think I'll expect an apology- it's not like I could've held my skirt closed around me, y'know; I had other things to do with my hands at the time."

"Your hands!" The Doctor turned Rose's hands over and over, studying them.

"Captain Jack fixed me up."

"If he ever was a captain, he's been defrocked."

"Yeah?" Rose grinned, "shame I missed that."

"Actually," Captain Jack Harkness's voice greeted them as they realized they'd been transported to his ship, "I quit. Nobody takes my frock."

The Doctor looked around the ship Harkness had teleported them into. It was a Chula warship. And suddenly the pieces came together… well to be exact, the nanites.

"Sorry about the delay," Captain Jack was saying. "I had to take the nav-com offline to override the teleport security; didn't expect it to take ten minutes."

"That was only ten minutes?" Rose whispered to the Doctor, "It felt like a good half hour at least."

"Only _good_ , Rose? I'd call it _fantastic_." He gave her a heated smile. "Behave yourself and don't wander off next time I ask, and maybe I'll show you all those extra minutes Harkness missed; let you count them yourself."

The Time Lord turned to Captain Jack. "Harkness, take us to the crash site." He winked at Rose and she couldn't quite stifle the giggle as he said coquettishly, "I'd like to see your space junk."

Harkness threw the Doctor a _mi space junk es su space junk_ smile but immediately got serious. "Soon as I get the nav-con back online. Make yourself comfortable. Carry on with whatever it was you were doing."

"We were talking about dancing," the Doctor said.

Harkness paused to look at his two passengers. "It didn't look like talking."

"Didn't feel like dancing," Rose said. The smile she turned on the Doctor was brighter than the spark of creation. "We've never done it in a Chula warship."

  
~~

  
"Everybody lives, Rose! Everybody lives! Go on, ask me anything. I'm on fire!"

"What about Jack? Why'd he say goodbye?"

The Doctor stared intently at the console, counting seconds that passed, minutes to come. Counting the heartsbeats of a silly scared old fool. Counting two years' measure of anger and rancour, the haunting tendrils of unremembered regrets, and the waning fears and self-doubt of a once-lost conman who'd just begun to discover he was a hero.

The Time Lord smiled.

  
~~

  
It would never have made even a casual note in the _Hitchhiker's Guide._ The space was seriously claustrophobic, the Martini had a little too much vermouth, and there was no escape pod. Harkness was just getting to the point where he didn't even give a fig about the Martini when "Moonlight Serenade" began to play and a big blue wood packing crate materialized in his ship.

"Welcome to the TARDIS." Rose Tyler greeted Captain Jack, who seemed upside down on account of the deep layback (Rose's, not Jack's). "Close the door, will you," the Doctor added, as he snapped Rose back up and turned them so he could lower her naked thigh off his hip and make sure the longer skirt she was wearing covered all Rose's … essentials. "Your ship's about to blow up. There's gonna be a draft."

"Much bigger on the inside," Captain Jack noted, looking around appreciatively.

"You'd better be."

Harkness nodded and entered, stroking the TARDIS as he did. "Hello, Beautiful." The TARDIS preened. The Doctor's lips quivered.

"Easy are we?" the Doctor whispered to his ship when Harkness turned to close the doors and she whistled at his bum. But the time lines were settling themselves into something that made the smile that the Doctor couldn't stop something powerful and beautiful.

Captain Harkness looked around the control room. Who – what – was this Doctor Spock when he was home? Harkness itched to find out. "Doctor, this bigger on the inside; how–"

Rose grinned.

The Doctor smirked. "Time Lord trick."

_Time Lord?!_ "Maybe you should show me?" Jack mimicked the Doctor's earlier coquettishness.

"Maybe some other time, Captain. My dance card is full, and Rose's name is on every line," he said pointedly.

Harkness nodded again. As he watched the Doctor and Rose Tyler dance around the control room, Jack leaned carelessly against a strut that looked and felt like living coral and felt as if he'd just broken free of prison.

The Doctor danced Rose Tyler around the console, up and down the steps, spun her behind a large strut. He brushed her lips with his and dipped her into a deep layback. He leaned in, following the arc of her body with his.

"We got through the dating part, though it was touch and go there for a bit," the Doctor admitted with a sheepish look that tried, really tried, not to be a grin. Now we're dancing. Are you satisfied?"

Rose looked at her lover, her eyebrow arched even more than her body. "What do you think?"

Jack Harkness, former Time Agent was trained to look for temporal anomalies, for entelechies, for anyone strong enough or wrong enough to go mucking about with the natural flow of the prime time line. He could read alternate time lines as much as any man could read an n-dimension book whose pages lay on top of each other and through each other, crowding the fourth dimension into the unknown beyond. But it was obvious to Harkness that the Doctor actually could control time. The Time Lord had spun his partner behind the largest strut in the room, dropped her into a masterful dip and held her there. The moment yawned politely behind its hand, drowsily content yet playful. Jack Harkness's eyes went wide. His smile grew slowly even as he quickly looked away; time didn't normally act like that with a crowd present.

The music played. The TARDIS sang. Several time lines stole over and caressed the newest member of the Doctor's crew. The Doctor and Rose Tyler danced.

 

~~~

 

 

 

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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
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